It was two days later. The town was going about business as usual while preparing for the upcoming town fair. Dina stood outside the antique shop with a stack of memorial fliers clutched in her hands. She stared at the building with a look of confusion. Boards covered the door and windows. They hadn't been there yesterday, and how they got there so fast was a mystery. Mayor Lance approached Dina on the sidewalk, appeared bewildered, and stared as well.

"Are Grey and Casey selling the shop?" Mayor Lance asked with a look of surprise on his face.

Dina uncertainly shook her head and appeared unable to take her eyes off the boarded up antique shop. "I don't know," she replied. "I went by their house to inspect it after the cleaning crew had been through. The house is boarded up too." She remained stunned and continued to stare at the building. "Casey called me last night and said something about her uncle visiting them in the hospital. She said they were moving in with him."

"And he had the house and shop boarded up that fast?" Lance asked with surprise.

"I a.s.sume so," she replied softly. "Her horses are gone and the barn's been cleaned out."

"That's strange."

"Yeah, especially since she'd never met this uncle of hers," she informed him. Dina slowly shook her head and fought her tears. "I just get this bad feeling that I'm never going to see her again."

"Casey and Grey were put through h.e.l.l only a few days ago," Lance said to Dina. "She's dealing with a lot right now. She probably just needs time to sort through it. Maybe a few weeks away from here is what she needs."

"Maybe," Dina muttered then looked at the memorial fliers in her hand. "I just wish she'd confided in me, that's all. She didn't even leave a forwarding number or address. She just said she'd let me know when she was settled."

"I know you're worried about her," Lance said gently. "You just work on posting those memorial fliers. She'll attend; you'll see."

Dina stared at the building and frowned. She obviously wasn't convinced of it.

Chapter Ten.

Two years later. The once beautiful Remington farm was overgrown with tall weeds. The wooden fence was falling down, the landscaping was overgrown, and the boarded up house was in desperate need of paint. The sheriff's blazer drove up the overgrown driveway and parked in front of the house. Vaughn got out of the blazer and approached the house. He walked up the porch steps, and instead of approaching the door, he comfortably sat on the railing with his back to the support beam. He rested his head against the beam, shut his eyes, and appeared to escape into another world. His uniform proudly displayed the sheriff's badge on the breast pocket. The months that followed the double homicide of Casey's parents were the roller coaster ride that changed the town's perspective in many ways. Although the murders remained unsolved, Sheriff Wiley recommended Deputy Vaughn Holt to become his successor as sheriff. The town unanimously agreed. Somehow, he was deemed a hero. He had saved the lives of Casey and Grey while thwarting the first murderer the town had seen in its history. Despite his skepticism for the reason behind his promotion, Vaughn accepted the sheriff's position. Now, two years later, he still sat at the scene of crime while no closer to solving the murders than he had been the days that followed.

A thump within the house caught his attention. Vaughn leapt from the porch railing and approached the front door. He uncertainly placed his hand to the doork.n.o.b. As he turned the k.n.o.b, the door opened! It was supposed to be locked. Vaughn removed his revolver from its holster, carefully pushed open the door, and slowly entered the house. As Vaughn entered the kitchen, it was obvious the occupants had left in a hurry. Everything remained within the house, although now with a thick, dusty layer covering it. His eyes immediately strayed to the island counter, but the blood had been painstakingly cleaned two years earlier by the crew Dina had hired. As Vaughn stared at the dusty area before the island counter, the echoing of three gunshots from that chilling night could be heard. Vaughn tensed and took a deep breath. The boarded windows allowed little light to enter, but through the light of the open door, Vaughn saw footprints in the dust across the floor. They headed into the dark living room. Vaughn removed a small flashlight and shined it toward the living room archway. A floorboard creaked within the living room. Vaughn leveled his gun at the archway and firmly gripped the trigger. The flashlight shined in the face of a man in his early fifties. Rory, the real estate agent, gasped with alarm and immediately raised his hands.

"Don't shoot, Sheriff," he announced defensively and allowed a tense laugh to escape. "It's just me."

Vaughn groaned and replaced his weapon with disgust. Rory lowered his hands and attempted to relax. The rumor had spread rapidly through town of how Deputy Vaughn Holt supposedly shot the killer three times in the chest after witnessing Casey's stabbing. The cowboy mentality of the town rejoiced the deputy's quick reflexes and swift actions. They didn't want a sheriff who was unwilling to pull the trigger when faced with life and death. On the flip side, a large portion of the town suddenly feared the man they most respected. Although he'd only drawn his weapon on a few occasions since that night, most were chilled when they saw Sheriff Holt holding his gun.

"What are you doing here, Rory?" Vaughn asked with the bewilderment clearly on his authoritative face. "How did you even get here?"

"The wife dropped me off. I'm waiting for the electrician," Rory explained.

Vaughn appeared immediately curious while staring at the realtor. "Electrician? For what?"

"Didn't you hear? I guess some guy is renting the old place," Rory said proudly.

The sheriff appeared surprised then said eagerly, "You spoke to Casey or Grey?"

"No, their uncle called and asked us to get the power turned back on and hire someone to clean and cut the weeds around the house," he replied. "Usually that means they're looking to rent or sell. He didn't ask for a sign, so I'm guessing they have an interested renter. Guess those kids went through their inheritance and need to recoup some losses. I expect the place to go up for sale in the near future. Be nice to get someone into that old antique shop too. I'm tired of looking at the place all boarded up." Rory made a face and appeared squeamish. "Such a grim reminder of what happened, you know."

"It's been two years," Vaughn said with a gentle sigh. "No one expects them to ever come back." He casually looked around and seemed to have trouble looking past the island counter. Vaughn was almost certainly off reliving bad memories. He finally looked back at Rory and appeared casual. "Looks like they left almost everything behind."

"Pretty much," Rory replied. "Although they did empty out the gun cabinet." He fidgeted but managed a weak smile. "I'll admit I was concerned about what I might find. I'd heard Dina had the place cleaned after, you know, but I still wasn't sure what I'd find. I can honestly say I didn't want to see any grisly reminders of what happened here. I heard it was pretty gruesome."

"Yeah," Vaughn said under his breath.

Rory immediately fidgeted with a strange realization. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sheriff," he said gently. "I almost forgot you were here that night."

"I never have," Vaughn scoffed and uncertainly ran his fingers through his hair. He again looked at the island counter, subconsciously wiped his hands on his pants, then looked at his clean hands and frowned.

One week later. The fairgrounds appeared deserted in the early evening setting. Storm clouds had rolled in and thunder rumbled in the distance as flashes of lightning lit up the clouds. The annual fair was growing near and would soon be flooded with locals and visitors alike. On the opposite end of the fairgrounds from the horse barn and arena was the stage used for the talent show and bachelor auction. The faint sounds of hammering and shouting voices were heard from near the stage. Mayor Lance and his wife, Abby, rode in a stylish golf cart toward the distant stage. Lance was dressed casual for his fairgrounds inspection, but Abby was dressed to impress, even though there would be few to impress. As Lance stopped the golf cart near the stage, Ernest appeared on stage with former sheriff Wiley. Although a little older and a little rounder, Wiley appeared more relaxed now in his retirement.

"I thought we'd add a few more lights to the stage this year," Wiley informed Ernest and casually indicated their locations. "Last year it was getting close to dark before we finished."

"I know an electrician who will give us a deal," Ernest informed him.

Lance and Abby disembarked their luxury golf cart and approached the large stage. Both walked up the steps leading up to the stage. Abby's high heels clunked across the stage. She paused and looked around with an approving smile.

"I like the new surface on the stage," Abby boasted to no one in particular. "Melanie is going to be pleased. She got a splinter in her foot last year."

"Nothing's too good for my darling niece," Ernest announced cheerfully to his sister then grinned. "I paid for the upgrades myself. When Melanie wins this year, it'll be--what? Four years in a row?"

"Five, Ernest," Abby playfully scoffed then smirked and shook her head. "Honestly, how can you forget these things? She's your only niece."

Wiley tensed and looked around while pretending not to listen to the conversation. There was being proud of your child and then there was stacking the deck in your child's favor. There was a fine line between the two, and it was difficult to say whether Melanie actually won on her own talents. Most of the judges were supporters of both the mayor and Ernest. Abby suddenly glared at Wiley in an almost scolding manner.

"You're suddenly very quiet," Abby remarked and raised a c.o.c.ky brow. "Something on your mind, Wiley?"

"No, nothing," Wiley replied. His carefully hidden look revealed there actually may have been, but he wasn't about to speak his mind.

Lance inspected the stage while grinning proudly. "This year's fair is going to blow our town away. One hundred years," he announced cheerfully. "The entire town is psyched for it. It's going to be spectacular. Our expected attendance is nearly double. We have vendors coming from all over the country to partic.i.p.ate." He then looked at Ernest with a serious expression. "I don't want anything ruining it."

"Relax," Ernest grumbled and apparently took some offense. "My boys have been perfect angels. Now that Wayne's married, they've all settled a bit."

Abby rolled her eyes. The term 'settled' was apparently subjective. Wiley frowned and looked away, possibly in fear of saying something he shouldn't.

Ernest obviously felt the mood shift, appeared humored by it, and shook his head. "Trust me," he announced boldly. "Nothing is going to ruin this fair."

The shrill sound of a horse neighing in the distance caught their attention. All four looked across the fairgrounds toward the distant hillside. There was a clap of thunder. A large, gray horse reared up with a sharp squeal as lightning flashed behind it. The horse's hooves pawed the air then harshly struck the ground. The gray horse snorted loudly then galloped across the field toward the woods with a loud neigh that almost resembled a war cry. All four watched the running horse as if they'd seen a ghost. Wiley walked to the edge of the stage with his mouth hanging open and watched the horse disappear into the woods.

"Was that--?" Lance gasped softly.

"It certainly was," Wiley replied while staring in disbelief.

It was later that same evening. The storm had pa.s.sed through quickly, although the roads remained wet. Despite the early hour, there were several trucks already parked in the tavern's parking lot. Even though it was only Thursday, there would be a good crowd since a live band would be playing later. The tavern appeared nearly empty, with the hard-core drinkers hanging out at the bar. A weary looking Dina carried a pitcher of beer to the pool area. It was early, and she was already exhausted. She appeared unhappy and lacked enthusiasm. As she approached the pool area, it was easy to see why. The Harford boys played pool at one of the back tables and joked around. Apart from the four men, the back was empty. Dina appeared reluctant to approach them and, instead, set the pitcher on the nearby table. She attempted to slip away unnoticed. Wayne must have slipped around the front and cut her off before she could escape. The cheap grin on his face was enough to cause her to cringe.

"Where are you going so fast?" Wayne asked in a devious tone. "Don't you want your tip?"

Wayne flashed a dollar bill and attempted to slip it down her shirt. Dina took a quick step back to avoid his hand near her cleavage. The last two years took their toll on her, and she appeared to have little fight left within her.

"Leave me alone," Dina muttered and attempted to go around him.

Wayne again stepped in front of her and grinned cheaply while playing with the dollar bill in his grease-stained fingers. Someone suddenly b.u.mped into Wayne from behind. His attention sharply fixated on the man who had run into him. A meek looking man in his late forties, who stood no more than 5'8", gave Wayne an apologetic look.

"Pardon me," Ruger announced politely and attempted to walk past.

Wayne gave Ruger a jolting shove to his shoulder, preventing him from pa.s.sing. "You have a problem?" Wayne snarled and stared down upon the meek man.

Dina watched the exchange with concern and uncertainly slipped out of the pool area. Ruger stared at Wayne, who towered over him by several inches, and appeared completely innocent of any wrongdoing.

"No, I don't have a problem," he replied casually.

"Well, you're about to have one," Wayne growled and grabbed Ruger by his shirt.

Ruger didn't flinch nor show emotion to Wayne's hands on him. A tall, muscular man appeared behind Ruger and glared at Wayne over top of Ruger's head. The stranger stood two inches above Wayne at an impressive 6'4". He folded his muscular arms across his chest and raised his brow in question. His green eyes pierced through Wayne's with a look that would chill most men. He oddly resembled a science experiment gone astray.

"Is there a problem?" the large man gruffly asked while staring down Wayne.

Wayne stared at the thirty-something year old, muscle-bound man with a look of surprise and quickly released Ruger. He chuckled softly and shook his head almost meekly.

"No, no problem," Wayne replied while taking a quick step back with his hands in the air.

The tall, muscular man, Diesel, nodded his approval and smirked most sinister. "Glad to hear," he replied then nodded Ruger to the nearby pool table.

Ruger grinned slyly, almost taunting Wayne, and joined Diesel at the free table. It would appear as if Ruger enjoyed his rather large trumping card. If it hadn't been for the impressiveness of his friend, the Harford boys would almost certainly have mopped the floor with the meek man. As the men began their pool game, Dina slipped into the backroom and offered the two newcomers drinks. She appeared relieved to have reinforcements as a buffer for the Harford boys. They weren't easily intimidated, but this was one battle they seemed unwilling to fight.

Chapter Eleven.

A little while later, the sheriff's blazer drove past the tavern, as was Sheriff Holt's usual practice on busy nights. The blazer suddenly slowed to the point of skidding and sharply turned into the parking lot at the last second. Vaughn jumped out of the blazer with a shocked look on his face and uncertainly approached the hitching post alongside the building. Casey's large, gray horse, in full western tack, was tied to the rail on the very end. Vaughn slowly approached the horse, ran his hands along the horse's shoulder, and walked to its left hindquarter. Vaughn ran his hand along the ma.s.sive scar on the horse's hindquarters. As he stared at the horse, an image from that night of him attempting to control the soaking wet and bleeding horse in the arena barn sudden flashed through his mind. Vaughn studied the horse then returned to its head. Storm snickered softly and pushed his large nose into Vaughn's chest nearly knocking him off his feet. He petted the horse's nose, appeared curious, and headed toward the tavern entrance.

Vaughn entered the tavern and looked around. There were very few patrons at the bar and only one or two were women. He studied each one from his position in the doorway, squinted, and appeared bewildered. He uncertainly approached the bar where Dina awaited her drink order. She seemed to be in a better mood now than she had been earlier.

"How's it going this evening?" Vaughn asked casually.

Dina looked at him, offered a tiny smile, and shrugged. "More of the usual," she replied. "Why?"

Vaughn appeared deep in thought then snapped out of his daze, smiled, and shook his head. "No particular reason."

The bartender, Mack, handed Dina a scotch on the rocks and a highball. Vaughn eyed the drinks and immediately became curious.

"Some hardcore drinkers tonight?" he asked.

Dina flashed a smile and freely gossiped. "Non-locals," she replied cheerfully. "I may actually make descent tips tonight for a change."

"Are they worth checking out?"

She eyed him and snorted a laugh to his casual interrogation. "No, they're not biker dudes or gang bangers," she replied in a mocking tone.

Vaughn grinned and snorted a laugh to her comment. As Dina walked away, he turned to the bored looking bartender. "Mack, can I get a coffee to go?"

"Sure thing, Sheriff," Mack replied cheerfully.

Vaughn leaned against the bar and glanced around with more than a pa.s.sing interest. He carefully studied each woman, but they were the usual bar flowers. Dina's mother sat at the end of the bar and flirted with a disinterested local. The end of the month was coming fast, and she probably needed rent money. Vaughn helped himself to some free pretzels and turned Mack's newspaper toward him to read the headlines. Dina entered the pool area in the back with her tray containing the two drinks. She set the drinks on a nearby pub table for Ruger and Diesel. Ruger politely smiled and paid her double the tab. Dina grinned with renewed life and headed back toward the main bar area. Ryan was suddenly alongside her, as if innocently pa.s.sing. She saw him too late to avoid him. His hand groped her breast through her tank top. She jumped with surprise then immediately turned angry. Ryan laughed at her. He obviously knew she wasn't going to do anything about it. Dina appeared to consider an appropriate reaction, but she was reduced to sneering at him instead. She was about to push past him when a woman was heard from nearby.

"Some things never change--"

Dina and the four men looked toward the opening to the main bar area. Casey leaned casually against the doorframe just inside the pool area with her arms folded across her chest and a strange smile on her face. Dina stared at Casey and appeared stunned. It was like seeing a ghost.

"Casey?" Dina gasped with surprise.

Dina carelessly shoved Ryan out of the way, hurried for Casey, and threw her arms around her. Casey briefly returned the embrace, although something seemed oddly different about her. Dina didn't appear to notice or simply didn't care. She stepped back and stared at her best friend with tear-filled eyes.

"I can't believe it's you. You haven't written or called," Dina gasped. "Where have you been?"

"Finding my way," she replied with the same, strange smile still on her face.

Dina appeared excited possibly for the first time in two years and bounced around happily. "I'll tell Mack I'm taking the night off," she announced. "We'll hang out and catch up."

"Tonight may not be good," Casey's casually replied.

Dina appeared confused and almost stunned as she stared at her friend. Casey grinned slyly while looking into the pool area, walked past Dina, and approached Ruger at the second pool table. Casey smiled and indicated the pool stick.

"May I?" Casey asked.

Ruger smiled charmingly, apparently taken by the beautiful woman, and handed her the pool stick. Casey casually twirled the stick skillfully between her fingers and approached the Harford boys at the next table. They were watching her closely as well. She was a ghost of the past; they couldn't help but stare.

"Fifty dollars a game," she said firmly while wearing a cheap grin. "Who am I playing?"

All four boys suddenly seemed to come to life. Wayne grinned while looking l.u.s.tfully over her. It didn't take long for the shock to wear off and their true personalities to quickly surface.

"The prodigal child returns," Wayne said with a chuckle. "Did you miss me?"

Casey stared at him and smiled slyly. "I've done nothing but think about you the last two years, Wayne," she informed him. She glanced at Dina and showed little reaction. "Scotch on the rocks."